


Routines

by 14winters



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Established Stoncy, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Monster Hunting Trio, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, stoncy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-01-27 18:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12588376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/14winters/pseuds/14winters
Summary: Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve are in their early twenties and living in a small apartment together. I like to daydream what their lives are like.





	1. falling asleep

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this will be, for now I'm just enjoying writing oneshots with my favorite OT3.

Nancy never falls asleep first. In the beginning it wasn’t on purpose. The fear of nightmares developed into insomnia that took months to conquer. Hot tea and gentle massages from Jonathan, exhausting pillow fights started by Steve, movie marathons, even an hour or so reading from thick college textbooks wouldn’t get her eyes any heavier.

And so Nancy got used to watching her boyfriends fall asleep. Steve nearly always went first. He seemed to use his energy faster than her and Jonathan. She or Jonathan would usually have one hand in his hair, smoothing the strands back from his forehead over and over, reveling in the texture and the soft smile on his face, smoothing the laughter lines around eyes and mouth.

Jonathan often stayed up as late as he could, reading alongside her, whispering to her every few minutes, questions or something about his own book, college classes, or his job. Steve was actually a heavy sleeper, but they both soundlessly agreed he was too adorable to risk waking up on accident.

But eventually Jonathan would close his book and move to rest on his side, usually facing her. Nancy didn’t always sleep between her boyfriends, but it was her favorite place to be, and she didn’t often get an argument.

Her favorite nights were the ones where both Steve and Jonathan fell asleep while each holding one of her hands. She could let her mind wander more freely then, their lax grasp against her palms and fingers, their soft breathing the only thing she heard besides the occasional rush of cars outside. Those were always the end of the longest days, the lights going out well after 1am. Because of cram studying, late night shifts, or a night out drinking and smoking together, seeing more than one movie, going to more than one bar.

When the nightmares began to become less and less, Nancy found herself drifting off sooner, no longer dreading the approach of dawn without sleep. But she still stayed awake until both Jonathan and Steve were asleep. Eventually Jonathan had asked if she forced herself to stay awake, and she’d been surprised to realize she didn’t. It felt as natural as breathing, waiting until she knew both of them were safe in their own dreams. Being awake just in case one of them had a nightmare. Being able to reassure herself over and over, without provoking a worried stare, that they were there, that they were real, safe, and warm beside her.


	2. mornings

Jonathan usually wakes up first. Not because he sets an alarm, he’s just always been a morning person. Nancy is some odd place in between, but they all know this is due to her insomnia, at least in recent years.

Steve is definitely not a morning person. Jonathan learned this just before his senior year of high school, on a hot July morning with an even hotter, mostly naked Steve Harrington still in his bed.

Now Jonathan knows better. Unless a monster hunt is on the horizon, and several loud alarms set, Steve won’t budge until at least 10am, 9:30 if you’re persistent. And even in the coldest depths of winter Steve sleeps without a shirt. The first thing Jonathan does, after checking that both girlfriend and boyfriend are still fast asleep, is to make sure Steve is covered up to his shoulders.

This morning, Jonathan had hogged the blanket. With a wry smile, he shrugs the blanket off his shoulders, and studies the faces of his partners. In the same movement he feels Nancy’s hand slide limply off his back. She’s curled in the fetal position facing him, her hand now resting in a half closed fist on the sheet. She prefers only one pillow, but somehow this morning her head isn’t even on it, her messy brown curls hiding most of her face, the single pillow shoved against the headboard.

Steve’s arm is resting across her torso, which is also covered by the blanket. Steve is _on top_ of the blanket.

Shaking his head, holding back a grin, Jonathan rises from the bed and steps softly into the living room to retrieve a duvet to cover his boyfriend.


	3. breakfast

Steve woke up to the smell of bacon and the delightful realization that he and Nancy were spooning.

He let his eyes adjust the dim light of the room, late morning light filtering through cheap, barely closed blinds. Then the sound and sensation of Nancy’s soft, deep breathing. He never got up before her. This was a rare occurrence. A grin spread immediately across his face.

He slowly extracted his arm from around her waist and sat up, in the process noticing the duvet Jonathan must’ve draped over him. His smile softened as he leaned over Nancy.

“Nance,” he whispered, just a few inches from her face.

No response. And so he leaned closer, moved her hair off one side of her neck, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her skin. Then he softly blew on the spot where he’d kissed.

She hummed and turned onto her back, her eyes remaining closed.

But finding her neck exposed to better advantage, Steve made his next move.

And tickled her.

Nancy let out a startled laugh and her body turned away from him as he continued tickling under her chin and her side. She tried slapping one of his hands away.

“Steve!” she shrieked, laughter mixed with affront. Steve took his hands from her and fell back on the bed laughing, mostly at the look on her face as she turned to glare at him. But she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face either.

She sprang toward him, trying to tickle him back but he easily fended her off, knowing if she really wanted to she could subdue him.

She gave up trying to tickle him and instead leaned over and pressed a hard but quick kiss to his mouth.

When she moved away they continued grinning at each other. Then Nancy yawned, covering her mouth.

“Have a late night, Nance?” Steve asked, raising his brows at her.

She playfully shoved at his shoulder, holding back more laughter. “You know very well why. You _and_ Jonathan.”

Steve sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his smile becoming a smirk. “I didn’t hear you complaining at the ti—”

She shoved him again, this time with enough unexpected force he almost fell back on the mattress.

“Steve Harrington, are you done gloating?” she said, smirking back at him.

He eyed her up and down, just slow enough so he could see the dawning suspicion come onto her face.

“No,” he said, and lunged forward, scooping her up off the bed and into his arms.

“Steve!” She could barely say his name around her laughter, her small arm wrapping around his neck, making him feel much bigger than he actually was.

She couldn’t stop laughing as he carried her into the kitchen, where Jonathan stood at the stove. “Steve, put me down!”

Steve went toward their kitchen table, which was barely bigger than a fold out card table, and set Nancy atop it, her legs hanging over the edge, painted toes almost touching the floor. He gave her a peck on the cheek before pulling away, their grins mirroring each other as he dodged another half-hearted shove from her.

“Jonny Boy!” Steve yelled, looking at his boyfriend while standing out of Nancy’s reach. He waited till Jonathan looked at him, that tiny indulgent smile on his face.

“Look what I brought us for breakfast!” And he made a flourishing hand motion toward Nancy, who was yawning and laughing at the same time.

Jonathan lifted the pan full of bacon from the stove and began moving the bacon from pan to plate with a fork. He only glanced at Nancy, his smile growing. “Seems a bit scrawny,” he said, completely deadpan.

Steve put both hands on his hips, looking mock-offended on Nancy’s behalf. “I believe you put it quite differently last night.”

Nancy burst out laughing, a high, cute sound that made her cheeks turn red. Jonathan laughed softly to himself and brought the plate of bacon over, handing it to Nancy.

Once the plate was safely in Nancy’s hands, Steve put an arm around Jonathan’s neck and pulled him down for a brief good morning kiss.

Or it was meant to be brief. But Steve’s comment had brought half drunken memories of last night to the surface and Jonathan deepened the kiss, pulling Steve closer at his waist until their hips were pressed against each other.

Nancy, no doubt watching the entire time, spoke up just as they moved apart. “So are you going to eat me or not?”

They both turned to see her holding half a strip of bacon, her brows raised expectantly, the glint in her eye that said she knew exactly what she wanted and was going to get it.

“If by eat you mean—” Steve began, but Jonathan cut him off.

“She knows what she means,” he said, ruffling Steve’s hair playfully, before leaning forward to kiss Nancy, a soft, brief kiss that they all knew promised more.

“Breakfast first, dessert later,” Steve said, ruffling Nancy’s hair before he walked away to begin preparing their eggs.  Jonathan’s and Nancy’s over easy, his own over medium.


	4. seasons

Steve’s favorite season is summer. As soon as it’s hot enough to take his shirt off, he’ll do it. He’ll walk to the convenient store near their apartment to pick up milk or snacks or alcohol, and she’ll always smile when he comes back in with his shirt off and sunglasses on, sweat soaking the hair at the back of his neck.

The first time the three of them go swimming at a city pool, Steve jumps off the diving board with Nancy in his arms, and Nancy’s bikini top comes off. They’re all laughing, Jonathan holding his stomach in silent laughter at the edge of the pool, Steve pulling Nancy against his chest to protect her modesty, trying to say he’s not laughing _at_ her between the shallow breaths he can barely take around his laughter. She can’t even speak, she’s laughing too hard, and it takes far longer than it should to find her bikini top. It is blue after all. She spots a mother covering her young son’s eyes during the search, but doesn’t let it ruin her mood.

Steve’s favorite thing to do in the summer is for them to take a roadtrip to the nearest lake, get drunk on the beach, make a bonfire and roast s’mores. They finally got to do this the summer after she and Jonathan graduated high school, and it’s been a tradition to take the trip every summer since then.

Jonathan’s favorite season is spring. As soon as the blooms appear on the trees, he can be found outside for hours, wandering around taking photographs. Unlike Steve, he’s not fond of taking his shirt off, but he’s also more sensitive to cold than anyone Nancy’s known. He loves being able to go outside without worrying about being too hot or too cold. He’ll always drive around with his car windows rolled down, as soon as the thermometer goes above 50 degrees.

It was also the season of both his own birthday, and Will’s birthday. The season everyone around him seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, because they’d gotten through another cold season without any horrors from the Upside Down. And there’s something about new beginnings that had always captured Jonathan. Spring encompassed that feeling for him.

Like how every spring since the three of them lived together, Nancy would take out her sundresses from storage. He never tired of watching her lifting them from the box, shaking them out, and inevitably trying one of them on to just wear around their apartment. How Steve began rolling up his sleeves more often, walking around barefoot more often, begin shaving more often. Jonathan relished feeling the stubble on Steve’s face when they kissed for the first time in the morning, only to have it be smooth later in the day, stubbly and rough again a day or two later.

Smells and colors were richer, more varied. Change was constant, giving Jonathan more to focus on, more to draw him out of his own head. It was the one time of year he felt that inevitable change was welcome, not something to dread.

Nancy’s favorite season is winter. It was the season that brought them together, that blizzard in February of ’84. She never tires of the feeling of cuddling with her boys on cold nights. It happened a lot during the first couple winters they live in the city, unable to afford to keep the heat on 24/7. They would switch places, between who got to sleep in the middle and who had to sleep on the outside. Nancy had to insist the first couple times, because both of her boyfriends argued that she was so small she should always sleep in the middle. The Christmas of ’86 Joyce sent them three quilts as gifts, one for each of them.

And winter is the season that used to be the darkest time for her, but her boyfriends helped make it bright again. In December of ’83, she was consumed with grief she couldn’t express. But by December of ’84, she was the happiest she’d ever been in her life, because of Steve and Jonathan. After the misunderstanding at the Halloween party was cleared up, they barely spent time apart, wanting to make up for lost time.

Their first Christmas together, the Christmas of ‘84, Steve got Jonathan a new Zippo lighter to replace the one he’d taken last fall, and then left to burn up in the shadow monster’s tunnels that November.  “Hopefully the last time I replace something of yours I’ve ruined, Byers,” he said, smiling only half in jest. Jonathan just shook his head and hugged his boyfriend tight. To this day Jonathan still uses the same lighter, no other. The only time it’s not on him is when he’s in bed, taking a shower, or going swimming.

Jonathan got Steve a jacket that Nancy had helped him pick out. It was something Steve cherished because he would always have something from Jonathan close to him. Afterwards, Steve would often purposely leave the jacket at the Byers’ so when he got it back it would smell like Jonathan.

Steve got Nancy her own gun. She didn’t ask for details, but she knew he’d spent a good amount of time, likely with Jonathan by his side, picking out the right one for her. Steve said Hopper had helped them make sure it was legal for her to own one.

Jonathan got her a mix tape. It wasn’t the first or the last, but it stood out because it held only the songs Nancy had said were her favorite, every time the three of them drove around together, either listening to the radio or one of Jonathan’s other mix tapes. He’d remembered every single song she’d ever called her favorite.  

And Nancy got each of them rings. They were like promise rings, and when her boyfriends opened the small boxes and saw the matching rings, she explained none of them should wear them on their fingers. They could be worn on chains around their necks instead. No one would even know they were there, except for them. She had gotten rings that were thin, not bulky or heavy, just for that reason. And she produced the silver chains to go with the rings, and waited for their reactions.

Steve was trying not to cry. Jonathan saw him holding back the tears and pulled him into a hug, then they each pulled Nancy into the hug. They kissed her for the longest time after that, and she had cried, then laughed with her happiness.

Several years later, the old rings would be appropriately sized for each of them and worn on their wedding day.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The blizzard in February of '84 is referencing a chapter I plan to write for my work "Eleven Months". It should be chapter 5 or 6.


	5. nights alone

Sometimes Nancy chooses to spend the night on the living room couch.

She’ll turn all the lights off but leave the TV on the lowest volume. She’ll let the bright images soften the thoughts in her brain until she can close her eyes without seeing flashbacks, reminders of death, fear, and pain. In the near darkness she can’t see the scar on her hand if she looks at it.

She doesn’t do this to avoid her boys. She does it to give them space, for all of them. She needs nights where she doesn’t worry about her thrashing waking them up, or the anxiety rolling off her in waves keeping one of them awake with worry. She needs nights where her only company is the TV with its indifferent images and faces. She wants nights sometimes where Jonathan’s soft eyes and Steve’s sure hands aren’t there, so she can remind herself what it’s like to take care of her demons alone. She needs the lonely nights sometimes, and they understand.

But they always check on her. Sometimes just one of them, sometimes both at once. After the first time, she told them she didn’t mind, she was actually grateful they didn’t leave her completely alone. The worry was always palpable between them, for each other. It was part of how they loved. How could you not worry about someone you’d almost lost more than once? Whose nightmares and triggers you knew just as intimately as your own? Ignoring each other had never been any of their strength.

Jonathan will kiss the top of her head, and Steve will take her hand. Sometimes they just wish her goodnight. Other times, if her hand won’t let go or her eyes linger a bit on their face, they stay a few minutes, talking. About inconsequential things, like groceries and work drama and celebrity rumors. About family things, the kids back in Hawkins, Holly’s grades, El’s plans to buy her own car and drive up to see them with Kali next month. And rarely, Nancy will bring up the dark things. The last nightmare one of them suffered. The last monster they fought. The newest scars on their bodies. The aches and pains that weren’t physical, that were harder to put into words. Sometimes Nancy drew the painful words out of them, sometimes they drew them from her.

Either way, Nancy thanked them with soft slow kisses, fingers in their hair, whispering her love to keep the tears away. Because her love for them had saved her more than once. She had to make sure they knew.

Then they would leave her alone on the couch to share the bed without her for the night. Rarely did insomnia plague Jonathan or Steve, and Nancy envied them. But she told herself it wasn’t that bad—it let her see them wake up nearly every morning, the grayish light slowly brightening on their faces softened from sleep.


End file.
